


Catharsis

by VenusianBouquet



Series: Oasis AU [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biracial Character, Biracial Jesse McCree, Family Angst, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Gen, Implied Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Latino Jesse McCree, Oasis, Oasis (Overwatch), wow i love that these are tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 22:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10173470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenusianBouquet/pseuds/VenusianBouquet
Summary: catharsis |kəˈTHärsəs|noun (pl. catharses |-sēz| )1 the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.2 Medicine, rare; purgation.





	

It started out fine. Why can’t it always end fine? Why does it have to turn to shit, almost inevitably? Actually, that’s an oversimplification. It doesn’t _always_ turn to shit. 

 

Family just has a way of surprising you like that.

 

Jesse Reyes Amari sat in his apartment, having dinner with his sister, Fareeha Amari. It was a nice dinner: ta’amiya, baba ghanoush (though that’s their mother’s influence if anything; both dishes are called something different outside of Egypt), and, of course, the breads to serve it with. It’s enough for the two of them. 

 

Before long, they start talking more and eating less. The food is still there, but only just.

 

And talk they did; Jesse is easy to talk to, approachable to anyone, and though his sister is more reserved, she is humorous and affectionate with loved ones. It’s effortless.

 

Until —“You know, Jesse, I still can’t believe you’re gonna be the first one of us to get married.”

 

She’s hit a nerve. But this is his sister, she doesn’t — she doesn’t _mean_ anything by it, it’s not — it’s just family being tactless. He feels his jaw get tense. He stuffs his face with a little food and huffs out a sound vaguely approximating laughter. 

 

_Stop projecting. She isn’t making fun of you, she’s congratulating you on your engagement. No seas pendejo._

 

“I’m serious! Everyone thought it was gonna be me or Sombra, and––“

 

He cuts her off sharply. “Fareeha, can we, y’know, _not_ talk about how surprising it is that I was the first in this family to get engaged, or do something noteworthy?” Already, she has her brows furrowed. What’s worse is, he knows that he’s already gotten his point across. He doesn’t need to keep going. 

 

But he does. “Like, I get that I’m the fuck up of this family and that you’re the golden child between the ex-gang member high school drop out older brother and the degenerate hacker younger sister, or whatever you think of us, but can you just — stop throwing it in our faces like that almost every time we see you?”

 

Her face softens, and that’s what kills him. His anger evaporates, which, _good_ , his temper always gets away from him, and no one ever really deserves it. She moves from across the table and takes the seat next to him.

 

She speaks softly. “Jesse, I’m sorry. I… I would be lying if I said I didn’t know you felt bad, but I brought it up anyways. I apologize. I don’t want you to feel like you’re the fuck up of the family, because none of us think that. I don’t think that. No one thinks that but you, really! You’re mum’s favorite.” He barks out a laugh, but she can’t tell if it’s sarcastic or not. 

 

His anger has already left him, and in its wake is sadness and regret. “We all know that’s a damn lie. Fareeha Amari, if you ain’t your mom’s favorite I’ll eat every cowboy hat I own.”

 

She punches him in the bicep. “It’s true! And Uncle Gabe thinks you can do no wrong, and it’s different because he’s your father and not mine, but––“ 

 

This time he lets out a real laugh. “Uncle Reinhardt thinks the sun shines out of your ass and you know it.”

 

Neither of them recalls moving to the couch, but there they are, almost an hour later, feet tangled together as they sit on opposite ends of the couch and just talk. Even better, they talk freely; there’s no fear of hurting the other, or of being honest. It feels like a release. 

 

“Mami told you that?”

 

“She did! She said that that’s the proudest she’s ever been of you. I’m, what, twenty years too late, but I don’t think you _get_ how messed up they were over you leaving. When you came back… I know I’ve never asked, and I don’t know how much you’ve told anyone, but… I still wonder what happened.” 

 

“Sis, I mean this in the best possible way, but… we’ve had enough confessing our sins for one day. This dose of catharsis is good enough for me.” 

 

“Ooh, catharsis? Since when do you use that word? Do you still use that dictionary app dad bought you?” 

 

Snorting, he swats at her shoulder. “Shut up. You know what I mean.” The sun is little more than a bump over the horizon, and from his seat, he can look out the window to see Oasis readying itself for its night cycle. 

 

Fareeha sits up. Following the line of his thousand yard stare, she says, “Jesse, you know we won’t judge you. I won’t. But sometimes you get… distant, I guess, and it reminds me of how Mum and my Dad and Uncle Gabe get. You don’t wanna talk about it today, or ever, I don’t know, but — we’re here for you. We want to help you. I didn’t know how bad my jokes made you feel, and I apologized, but what if you hadn’t spoken up? I’d probably still make them, and know you felt bad about it, but not know the extent of it. And you’d be angrier and angrier until you snapped at me like you did today, only worse. Today ended up being a good thing, though, but… you know.” She pauses.

 

He’s about to reply when she continues. “Jesse, when you left, you didn’t come back for so long. I — we missed you. I thought you didn’t love me, or us, anymore. I thought,“ her voice gets rough, “we all thought you died, or something, and I don’t hate you anymore, I know you’re here, but not knowing why, I... part of me is still mad at you, which I guess is part of why I always say stuff like that. I, I know that’s not an excuse though, I didn’t know you felt that bad, but––“

 

When he looks at her face, he's surprised to see that her eyes are wet. He sits up and holds her hand. “I’m sorry. I know. I deserve that. But I’m just not ready to tell you. I… When we talk about that time, you always talk about how ma and my dad were affected, how Sombra was affected, but you never talk about you. You shoulda told me.” 

 

“When could I? I — you know I’m not like you. I don’t like making a big deal out of, out of feelings.” 

 

He sighs. The climatology drones are making their last circuit, cooling the still hot streetsbefore the night chill sets in and cools the city for them. The repetitive pattern of their movement soothes his nerves. His thumb starts absently stroking hers. “I know. I _will_ tell you why I left sometime, it’s just… Shit, I haven’t even told Hanzo exactly what happened yet, and we’re engaged.” She doesn’t reply, and they sit together on the couch, silent and present. 

 

The spell is broken when Fareeha’s phone rings. She doesn’t even move to pick it up, she just lazily speaks out loud. “Pick up call and play it on Jesse’s holoscreen.” 

 

The living room TV turns on a second later, with what seems to be a bit of a delay. It projects the face of Ana Amari, with her white hair cascading over her face as always. Behind her, the windows of the room she’s in show the distinct skyline of Cairo at night. 

 

The audio kicks in only a fraction of a second later. “Fareeha? Jesse! I didn’t know you were having dinner together. Seeing my two children together, it makes my heart warm.”

 

They look at each other. Fareeha is the first one to ask. “Mum. Are you okay?” 

 

“I’m fine! I’m doing great, actually, even though no one saw fit to call me and tell me they were having dinner together, but what does it matter? I’m just an old woman who wants to see how her daughter is doing; never mind that her own son hasn’t called her in a week, and that––“ 

 

“Mamá, do you wanna go out for dinner sometime this week?”

 

“Well, I might have to move around some things in my busy schedule, but I will see what I can do Jesse. I’ll call you about it tomorrow, in fact. But how are you? The both of you. What did you eat?” 

 

They both answer at the same time. “Baba ghanoush, ta’amiya, and baladi!” 

 

She laughs. “So you ate well, then, but I bet it wasn’t as good as your mother’s cooking. How about you both come to Cairo sometime soon? Oh, Jesse, you must bring Hanzo; I still don’t think he eats enough.” She watches them for another moment before speaking up again. “Are you both alright? It might just be the cameras or something, but you look odd.” 

 

Fareeha glances at him expectantly, so he answers, “We just had a bit of a sibling heart-to-heart.” 

 

Her eyebrows raise, but something on their faces must keep her from asking. It’s not long after that that she says goodbye with an soft look in her eye.

 

The mood shifts when the call drops. The impulse to speak honestly and vent their frustrations isn’t there anymore, but it’s not a normal evening either. They’re conscious of each other in ways they normally aren’t. 

 

Until they hug goodbye. Then, it all crashes into him with a weight that makes the breath rush out of his lungs. If he squeezes her a little tighter, and she holds on just a little longer, no one mentions it. It’s understood. 

 

“Fari, before you go, I — I jus’ wanna apologize again. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. There’s a way to talk about stuff that isn’t just, letting it sit and then exploding from the pressure. And for leaving. I know I've already apologized before, but… today we let out a lot of things we’ both been holdin’ in, so.”

 

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to be angry at me sometimes, Jesse. I didn’t know how bad it made you feel sometimes, true, but it was still wrong of me. I’m sorry too. And I — don’t feel bad that you’re not ready to talk about it.” The apartment is lit a vibrant, slow orange from the setting sun, and neither one of them has moved to tint the windows or close the blinds.

 

He hugs her tighter when he feels tears crawl down his face, and she sighs. “Are you crying?” 

 

“No,” he says, crying. 

 

His sister laughs at him, but it’s not unkind. “Okay, just like I wasn't crying either. I know." She laughs again. "I love you. We should talk more about… feelings. And stuff. If you want.” 

 

“I love you too. A lot. And we don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m jus’ a crybaby, you know that.” He punctuates this with another squeeze. “Get home safe.” 

 

It reminds him heavily of when they used to live together as children, and she would cry when he left for school, she liked him so much. Things have changed so much since then, and still, they’re family. They love each other, even if they get on each other’s nerves, or hurt each other. 

 

The lock clicks with an inappropriately cheerful beep, and he feels the need to just — do something. 

 

He makes a decision. 

 

Looking around the apartment for his phone, he finds it on the couch where he was sitting. “Call Mamá, and display on holoscreen.” 

 

She takes only a minute to pick up, as if she was expecting the call. “Habibi, is something the matter?”

 

“No, nothing, nothin’ serious. I just… I wanted to talk. Me and Fari were talking, and… well, when we have dinner this week, I was thinkin’ that we could talk. About — about when I, uh,“ _ran away; left you guys; acted like an ungrateful piece of shit._ “When I left.” 

 

It’s slightly pixelated from the holographic display, but something comes over her face. “From lived experience, I know that there are things you never even want to think about after they happen. Things you make yourself forget. Don’t feel the need to talk about something you aren’t ready to talk about.” 

 

“I am ready. You and papi have been wondering for long enough. Fari might’ve talked some sense into me.” 

 

“I look forward to it. Even if you change your mind, even if all we talk about is how the weather is, I will be here, and I will listen. Always remember that, my love. While we’re here, though, we should decide when this little conference will happen. Can you come here on Friday?” He nods, exaggerating the movement slightly so she and the camera pick it up. “Great. I love you. Bye.”

 

When she hangs up, it’s with a sense of finality. It feels good.

 

Navigating back to his phone’s home screen, he opens the dictionary app that Reinhardt did, in fact, buy him, and he looks up a word. 

 

_catharsis |kəˈTHärsəs|_

_noun (pl._ **_catharses_ ** _|-sēz|_ _)_

_1_ _the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions._

_2 Medicine, rare;_   _purgation._

 

Fitting.

**Author's Note:**

> I love healthy family dynamics :,) look at these adults talking things out. Look at Jesse being a crybaby big brother and Fareeha being a stoic younger sister ;_;
> 
> Translation for the like, one Spanish phrase i snuck in here: "No seas pendejo" means: Don't be an idiot/don't be stupid/don't be an asshole. technically just the first two but, like, a pendejo is like, a bit meaner than an idiot, but not as mean as a bastard. that's my overly complex translation of it anyways. 
> 
> I made sure to make this obvious in the fic and through my tags somewhat but if it isn't clear or you just want confirmation, Jesse and Fareeha are (half)siblings in this fic, and interact with each other differently than in canon. I'm planning to write more in this AU, and if you wanna know more about it, hit me up on tumblr @ kanjiklubfanclub !
> 
> Hope you guys liked it!!


End file.
